Southern Italian Folk Ritual — A Plain-Language Guide

The Italian Saumadora

An old home ritual for clearing and blessing a space with smoke and salt-water, and for asking a question in a dream — explained in everyday words, with a glossary

Part 1

The Italian Saumadora, Grounded

A plain-language guide to smoke, salt-and-water, and the dream

This is the easy-to-read version. There is a fully-cited, scholarly version too (in the project files as `synthesis.md`); this one says the same thing in everyday words. A short glossary of the odd words is at the bottom.

What this is

This is an old Southern Italian home ritual for cleaning and blessing a space, and for asking a question in a dream. It comes from a folk tradition called benedicaria — literally "the way of blessing," the home craft of the family healer.

It uses three simple tools:

  1. Smoke — burning herbs and tree resins (like frankincense) and carrying the smoke through the house.
  2. Salt and water — blessed salt water, used to wash and to mark doors and windows.
  3. A dream practice — a way to fall asleep with a question and receive an answer.

"Saumadora" is just a name for the smoke-and-censing craft. (Think of it like "smudging.")

The one rule that runs everything

First you clear. Then you bless. You never strip without putting good back.

Every part of this ritual follows that rule:

Simple version: open the windows and chase it out, then close them and invite the good in.

Part 1 — The Smoke

The two most important ingredients

Key safety note from the tradition: never burn myrrh by itself. On its own it "opens the door" but doesn't protect you. Always mix it with frankincense, which does the protecting. Together they're the classic blessing smoke.

Why is myrrh the risky one, specifically? The old world consistently paired these two resins as opposites. Frankincense was sacred to sun-gods — Re in Egypt, Apollo in Greece — and was already used on its own as a banishing, exorcising smoke. Myrrh belonged to the moon and to grief: tied to Isis, to Osiris's death and return, even to the Phoenix, who was said to wrap its dead parent in myrrh before burning it. It shows up at real-world thresholds too — burned at the head of a sickbed, even kindled beneath a woman giving birth in one old custom. So the rule makes sense once you see the pairing: myrrh is already the tradition's threshold-opener, the resin of moon, mourning, and passage between states. Frankincense is the solar guard that stands watch at the door myrrh opens. Open a threshold and walk away, and nothing is watching it — that's the unsafe part.

How to burn it

You burn loose resin and herbs on a charcoal disc in a small burner (a censer). One tip from the old texts: use plain charcoal, not the "quick-light" discs (they're soaked in saltpetre, burn too hot, and scorch the resin so it smells burnt).

Move the smoke from the back of the house toward the front, ending at the front door — waving it over every bed and into every corner. You're sweeping the bad energy out the front.

Which smoke to use

To clear / banish (windows open, waning moon):

To bless / invite good (windows closed, full moon):

To protect (against the evil eye):

Part 2 — "Which smoke for which problem" (the old body-logic)

The old idea behind all of this is called humoral thinking. It's simple once you get it:

Everything — herbs, illnesses, even a room's mood — was thought of as some mix of hot / cold and dry / wet. To fix a problem, you use its opposite.

So:

One correction I made while researching: an earlier draft of this guide had vervain listed as a cooling herb. When I checked it against Culpeper's herbal (a primary 1653 source), vervain is actually hot and drying. So it belongs with the protective/opening herbs, not the cooling ones. Small thing, but it's the kind of detail the research was for.

Why does "opposite fixes it" even make sense?

The old herbalist behind this system (Culpeper, 1653) didn't think of plants and illness separately — he thought of both as sitting somewhere on the same hot/cold, wet/dry map, with a planet attached to each. His own words: "physic without astrology is like a lamp without oil." A cold, sluggish complaint was read as ruled by a "cold" planet; you cured it with a plant ruled by a "hot" planet. That's the whole logic — not "this herb kills the germ," but "this herb's nature cancels the illness's nature." A "degree" (first through fourth) is just how far out on that hot/cold scale a plant sits — garlic, at the fourth degree, is as hot as a plant gets.

*(Even Culpeper's own system had a contradiction he didn't resolve: he classes both frankincense and myrrh as "hot," yet notes their actual healing effect is to calm inflammation — which is what a cooling thing should do, not a heating one. I'm leaving that contradiction in rather than smoothing it over, because the old sources leave it in too.)*

(Honest note: nobody has proven any of this "works" in a scientific sense. The one old author who steps back to judge it was a skeptic who thought the effects came from imagination. The tradition does it; the record doesn't promise results.)

Part 3 — Salt and Water

Make the blessed water

1 tablespoon of salt to 1 quart of water. Bless it, and pour the salt in in the shape of a cross. That's your blessed salt water.

Bless the house (the main rite)

  1. Sweep dirt to the back door and throw it out: "Away, filth, go back where you came from!"
  2. Wash the floors with the blessed water.
  3. Add a handful of blessed salt to a bucket, stir it clockwise nine times, saying a Hail Mary with each stir, and pour it in the street.
  4. Fresh bowl of blessed water; at every window and door, dip your finger and trace a cross: "Evil does not enter, good does not leave."
  5. Finish by carrying frankincense-and-myrrh smoke over every bed.

Done once a year (early spring) and whenever you move into a new place.

Why the details?

(Clockwise-for-blessing is the same "clear, then bless" rule as Part 1's smoke, just done with direction instead of two separate steps — turn one way to strip, the other to bless.)

The bath version (for a person)

Same rule again: strip, then sweeten.

Part 4 — Timing and direction (from real folk records)

From actual collected Italian folklore (Charles Leland's 1890s Tuscan collections):

A real, well-loved little rite from the same source — removing the evil eye: put three drops of oil in water, make crosses over it, and ask (here, the moon-goddess Diana; in Christian practice, a saint or the Madonna) to carry the bad luck away. The folklorist who recorded it said he saw it done "scores of times."

The four directions each have their own archangel — this is a real, named Sicilian system

This isn't a modern overlay. It comes straight from an old Sicilian Benedicaria family manual, under the heading "Ruling Territories," and it's meant for something very practical: figuring out which direction trouble is coming from, and which archangel to call on because of it.

DirectionArchangelWhat goes with it
EastGabrielPurple candle. Myrrh + frankincense — "to bring in his high angelic energy."
SouthMichaelRed candle. Allspice + dark brown sugar smoke, for conflicts with other people.
WestRaphaelMyrrh + frankincense (borrowed from his own prayer material — the old book doesn't give West its own separate smoke).
NorthUrielGreen candle, and an offering of fresh basil, lemon water, and white carnations — but honestly, no smoke recipe for this one has turned up yet. If you build one, know you're filling a real gap, not repeating something documented.

The logic, in the old book's own words: each archangel is the ruling authority over whatever comes at you from his direction — the same way a local patron saint has authority over their town. The book's own example: if a reading shows trouble is coming from the north, "you can stop this man's intentions by calling upon the Archangel Uriel for protection… being Uriel rules [the north's] territory he has control over their actions." You're not just decorating a direction with a name — you're calling in the one with jurisdiction there.

Part 5 — The Dream Practice

The idea: fall asleep with a clear question, and receive the answer in a dream. This is very old. The ancient Greeks did it formally at healing temples — you'd purify, make an offering, and sleep in the temple hoping the god Asclepius would visit your dream and heal you. (We know the exact steps from Aristophanes' comedy Plutus and the travel-writer Pausanias.) It wasn't only done at Epidauros, either — Pausanias describes a second temple, at Oropus, where the ritual was different in its details: purify by sacrifice, then wrap yourself in the skin of a freshly sacrificed ram and sleep in it, expecting the god's direction in the dream. When cured, you threw a gold or silver coin into the temple's sacred spring. Different props, same shape: purify, sleep consecrated, receive the dream, pay the debt.

The ancient steps were: wash → offer cakes → lie down in a sacred, dark, silent room → receive the dream → give a thank-offering. The Italian folk version keeps the same shape but uses saints and holy water. Here it is:

  1. Timing. New moon for a love/future-spouse question. Keep it secret.
  2. Wash (purify) — a quick bath or spray of holy water + a dash of sea salt.
  3. Offer — set out a small bloodless offering on your altar: bread, a honey-cake, some figs (like the ancient temple cakes).
  4. Bless the bed — trace the salt-water cross at the window and door; holy water in the sheets, a rosary under the pillow, a small cross above the bed.
  5. Burn the dream smoke — frankincense + myrrh (never myrrh alone), maybe with a little bay laurel (the ancient oracle plant). Wave it over the bedding.
  6. Ask, and promise — write down one clear, specific question. Say it out loud with a saint's prayer (St. Anthony for a lost thing, St. Lucy for a future love), and promise a small offering in return.

How to actually write a good question (a modern dream-work teacher's advice, and it's genuinely useful): don't ask yes/no questions — ask something open. Ask one thing at a time — one teacher's example is a woman who asked "Should I take this roommate in, or not?" and got a dream she couldn't read at all; reworded as "What's the consequence of taking this woman into my house?" it worked. If your question is big, break it into smaller ones. And decide on purpose who you're asking — the god, a saint, an ancestor, a guide — because that choice shapes what shows up.

  1. Sleep in silence, and write the dream down the moment you wake. The old Greek instruction is specific: if you hear a noise in the night, don't answer it — that noise might be the god arriving, and the job is to stay inside the dream, not get pulled back out of it by curiosity.
  2. Read it, and keep your promise. Rough rule: white/green in the dream = good sign; red/yellow/black = be careful. For St. Anthony, expect two nights (night one = the saint's "price," night two = the answer). Then give the offering you promised.

If it's for a lost object, specifically — Saint Anthony's own two-night method

This is the fullest, most complete version of the dream practice in the old sources, word for word. Say this the first night, lying down after:

"Antonio a Padova nato, e da tutti adorato — stanotte faccio vuto pe n'oggetto perduto. Sant'Antonio putente, me teniteme in mente, e nsuonno me dicite chelle che po vulite, pe dirme c'aggia fa, pe la cosa truvà."
("Anthony, born in Padua and adored by all — tonight I make a vow for a lost object. Powerful Saint Anthony, keep me in mind, and tell me in my sleep what you want in return, so I know what to do to find the thing.")

The first night's dream tells you what Anthony wants as thanks. The second night, after you've promised that offering out loud, you say the same prayer again — and that dream gives you the actual answer.

Why the silence and the darkness, really?

There's a real disagreement buried in the old sources about whether a dream can lie to you. One modern dream-work author says no — an honestly asked question gets an honest dream, full stop. But almost everything else in this practice — the secrecy, the silence, the saint standing guard — only makes sense if a dream can be tricked or hijacked by something unfriendly. The Italian rite comes down clearly on the side of "it can": that's why it never sends you to sleep unguarded. Holy water in the sheets, a rosary under your pillow, a cross over the bed, a saint you've personally asked for help — read this way, those aren't optional decorations on top of a dream that would have been trustworthy anyway. They're what makes it trustworthy. Silence and a dark room are the same kind of guard, just aimed at your senses instead of your surroundings: nothing gets let in that didn't come through the ritual itself.

One old writer on the subject puts the mechanism plainly: "if the unconscious is to speak, the conscious must be silent." The point of the dark and the quiet isn't to keep something bad out — it's to turn the noisy, talkative, everyday part of your mind off long enough for the quieter part underneath it to have a turn. There's also an honest and interesting wrinkle here: the same writer notes that in the oldest form of this practice, the dream itself was the cure — you didn't wake up with instructions, you woke up already healed. Only later did it become what the Italian rite still is: you ask, you're given an answer, and you go do something about it. So this whole practice, as inherited here, is already a later, more practical version of something that started out even stranger and more direct.

(On fasting — being honest, since it's often assumed: none of the old sources actually require it for this kind of dream rite. One temple's rules mention it as optional depending on the person, and a full fast is specifically tied to a different, harsher oracle practice, not this one. So don't feel you need to fast before doing this.)

(Everyday nightmare/insomnia fixes, same source: holy water between the sheets and a rosary under the pillow "keeps bad dreams and night-frights away." Three eggs under the bed — one for the Father, one for the Son, one for the Holy Spirit — is an old cure for insomnia and nightmares. For plain sleeplessness: read Psalm 4 aloud three times, then a big cup of chamomile tea.)

The Plants and Resins (with pictures)

Here are the main things you burn or carry, what each one is for, and what it means. (The botanical pictures are old public-domain plates.) A quick rule of thumb: resins are for blessing and opening; sharp herbs (rue, garlic) are for clearing and protection; cool, soft herbs (chamomile, lavender, mugwort) are for sleep and dreams.

Resins and gums (the blessing smoke)
FrankincenseFrankincense — the master blessing resin. Draws down good, "angelic" energy. The everyday altar smoke. Always pairs with myrrh.
MyrrhMyrrh — "opens the door to the spirit world." A grief and sickbed smoke. Never burn it alone — always with frankincense, which protects.
CopalCopal — the Latin-American blessing resin (from the sahumerio censing tradition). Sweet, bright, cleansing.
Dragon's BloodDragon's Blood — a red resin. The clearing/banishing smoke of the first pass, carried with the windows open.
BenzoinBenzoin — sweet, balsamic. A gentle cleansing and blessing resin.
SandalwoodSandalwood — a cooling wood. In Saint Michael's oil, and the chips used to light the yearly altar fire.

Italian garden and field herbs (protection)
RueRue — the keystone herb. "The herb of grace." The main plant against the evil eye; the little rue-sprig charm (cimaruta). Kept hidden in the house, never given away.
GarlicGarlic — Saint Michael's plant, the great protector. Hung or worn, not burned (it's too "hot").
Bay LaurelBay Laurel — the oracle leaf. Protection, and the plant of prophecy and dreams.
RosemaryRosemary — remembrance, protection, purification. Burned to "correct the air" of a room.
BasilBasil — a gentle drawing/good-luck herb. Its leaves are burned to read the evil eye by how they crackle.
OliveOlive — the blessed branch and the holy anointing oil. A direct link to the sacred.

Warming spices and calming herbs
CinnamonCinnamon — warming; the third resin in the altar blend; the prosperity smoke.
CuminCumin — the pinch in the Befana anti-evil-eye blend.
ChamomileChamomile — the Italian sleep-aid; the "healing-dream" smoke and tea.
MyrtleMyrtle — a binding, "sealing" smoke; burned last, to close the door after clearing.
CamphorCamphor — cooling and lunar; in the house-blessing pill and the moon incense.

Visionary, cooling and moon plants (dreams)
MugwortMugwort — the classic dream/vision herb, said to "open the third eye." (Note: this reputation is folk/modern, not in the old herbals.)
LavenderLavender — eases sleeplessness; the calming herb in a dream blend.
JuniperJuniper — a clearing, banishing sweep (its wood-smoke "drives away serpents"); also a moon incense.
WormwoodWormwood — a moon incense (with camphor) and a strong vision herb. Burn with the window open; the smoke is harsh.

(Want the full set? There are ~50 more images — every plant and ritual object named in the research — in the project's `images/` folder with a captioned catalog.)

The Prayers & Words (say these)

These are the actual words the tradition uses, in Italian with a plain English meaning. There are two layers: the Christian home-blessing words (saints, the Trinity, holy water) that most benedicaria practitioners use, and an older folk layer collected in the 1890s that calls on Diana, the moon-goddess. Use whichever fits you; in real Italian folk practice the Madonna and Diana often blur into the same "lady of the moon."

When you make the blessed salt water

Bless the water, then pour the salt in as a cross:

"O water, creature of God, I exorcise you in the name of God the Father almighty…"
then, pouring the salt: "May a mixture of salt and water now be made, in the name of the Father, and of the ✝ Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

When you clear the house (the smoke going out)

Carry the clearing smoke (dragon's blood) room to room holding a cross, saying one Our Father, one Glory Be, and this line from Psalm 67 (the smoke image):

"As smoke is driven away, so are they driven; as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish at the presence of God."

When you bless the house (the sweet smoke coming in)

Carry frankincense-and-myrrh room to room, inviting the good in:

"Come, Lord Jesus, come, Holy Spirit, come, Virgin Mary, come holy Angels…"
and, offering the smoke: "Let this incense be a sweet fragrance to you and your Holy Angels, O Lord."

At each door and window (tracing the salt-water cross)

"Via, via, sporcizia, torna da dove sei venuta!" — "Away, away, filth, go back where you came from!" (as you sweep out)
"Male non entra, bene non esca." — "Evil does not enter, good does not leave." (at each threshold)

Against the evil eye (malocchio)

The short breaking-charm said over the oil-and-water bowl:

"Occhi e contro occhi e perticelli agli occhi, crepa la invida e schiattono gli occhi." — "Eyes against eyes and the holes of the eyes: envy cracks and the [envious] eyes burst."

The older Diana version, with three drops of oil:

"Il malocchio mi leverò con tre gocciole d'olio… e te, bella Diana, io invoco che tu possa mandarmi via il malocchio da dosso a me, e mandalo al mio più nemico!" — "With three drops of oil I remove the evil eye… and I call on you, lovely Diana, to take it off me and send it to my worst enemy!"

The Befana smoke-chant (protection / turning luck)

Chant room to room as you carry the smoke; at the threshold, repeat three times, spitting over your left shoulder each time:

"In nome del cielo! Delle stelle e della Luna! Mi levo questo mal d'occhio per mia maggior fortuna! Befana! Befana! Befana!…" — "In the name of the sky, and of the stars and Moon, may this trouble change to good fortune soon! Befana! Befana! Befana!…"
(closing) "Befana, Befana, Befana, chiunque mi ha dato il mal d'occhio, me lo porta via!" — "Befana, Befana, Befana, whoever gave me this bad luck, carry it away!"

To bless garlic on the altar (protection)

"O dear Heavenly Father, who gave the world Miraculous Garlic… imbue this garlic that I place on my altar with the power to drive all evil and sickness away…"

For a dream from a saint

St. Anthony (at an open window at midnight, lilies either side, a pot of rue in the middle):

"My benign Saint Anthony! I am not worthy to pray to thee. This grace I modestly require: please light for me three flames of fire — the first upon my head, one within my heart, and the third beside my door…"
(How the answer comes: a knock, a whistle, or a dog's bark = yes; a white horse = yes, but later; a dark horse, mule, or hearse = no.)

St. Lucy (for seeing a future love in a dream):

"Dear Saint Lucy, this night allow me to see…"

The keepsake charm (carry rue and vervain)

The folk collection gives Diana's own instruction:

"Se tu vuoi tener le cattive persone da te lontano, devi tenere sempre ruta con te, sempre ruta con te e verbena!" — "If you would keep all evil folk away, then always keep the rue and the vervain beside you!"

To the moon (the older folk layer)

A little good-luck rhyme said to the moon:

"Luna mia, bella Luna! Più di una altra stella, tu sei sempre bella! Portatemi la buona fortuna!" — "My moon, beautiful moon! More than any other star, you are always lovely! Bring me good fortune!"

The fuller night-invocation to Diana (face the moon):

"Bella dea dell'arco! Bella dea delle freccie! Della caccia e dei cani! Tu vegli colle stelle, quando il sole va dormir…" — "Lovely Goddess of the bow! Lovely Goddess of the arrows, of the hunt and the hounds! You who wake among the stars when the sun goes to sleep…"

(A note on saying them: the tradition holds that the healing/blessing words work by borrowing a higher power's authority, and that the strongest charms are whispered, kept secret, and never sold. Say them quietly and sincerely.)

What's solid, and what I filled in (being honest)

I want you to know which parts are actually documented and which I reconstructed, because that's the whole point of the research:

Solidly documented (these are real, sourced Italian practice): the smoke recipes with exact amounts, the "clear then bless" rule, the salt-water house blessing, the cleansing-then-sweet baths, the evil-eye oil test, and the saint dream-petitions.

Borrowed from elsewhere to fill gaps: the hot/cold/dry/wet grades for the herbs come from an English herbal (Culpeper, 1653), not from an Italian book. The dream-smoke step is imported — Italian dream practice is real, but it traditionally uses holy water and prayer, not smoke. I added the smoke on the model of an ancient Greek practice.

Honestly still missing: one important book (De Martino's study of Southern Italian folk magic) that would confirm whether this smoke practice was really thought of in hot/cold terms locally, and whether "saumadora" is even a real dialect word. I tried four times to download it; the file was broken every time. So take the word "saumadora" as a working label, not a proven term.

Glossary (the fancy words, plainly)